He hated travelling second-class with her—indeed, he never did—but he also disliked travelling in the same train when his daughter was in an inferior class, because of the look of the thing. ‘You have a knack of saying just the wrong thing. He urged his conductors to a quicker pace to get out of sight of the distressing spectacle, and even felt relieved when he was shut out from it and the execrations of the mob by the walls of the little prison. The psychic vibration of him thickened the air of the room as if he were already inside. Everybody talking of you. His face darkened. Diane spoke first. The girl was pretty, and apparently a lady. Was she so fearful still? Roding shrugged and grimaced. That was life.
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